The Spirit in the Rice
by This.Wolf.Writes
Summary: Tess comes from a long line of Shaman, powerful magical women who can see the hidden world of spirits that exists all around us. Her mother rejected these beliefs, however, severing their families ties to the other realm. Or so her grandmother thought.


There are billions of trillions of weird, whimsical, and wonky things in the world. Things beyond what we could ever imagine existing in places so far beyond our expectations, that these things have escaped the reality of billions of people. And the people and animals that make up the world, they create magnificent unique inventions from their minds, their hearts, their hands. Every day, everywhere, newness is rising up like bubbles from a soda water. Rising through our reality, cresting and falling, and evaporating into the air, leaving its essence. Each life, each movement, each interaction, creating billions of more possibilities, generating even more possibilities. One soul has so much power, simply through the amount of possibilities that they will generate simply by existing. One becomes truly exceptional when one realizes this power, and utilizes it to illicit a significant change in the world. Tess, a young girl of 10, was one such person. So small, and yet effervescing with newness.

She awoke in her mother's bed; the comforters vaguely sweaty and thoroughly wrinkled. It smelled like her mother. She always wondered why her mother's scent seemed to overpower whatever aroma she might have as a person. She wondered if that was something one acquired as they grew up, like so many of the things she wanted right now. Her mother's bed was gigantic to her; it seemed to take over the whole room. She had dark charcoal grey sheets that had a stretchy and clingy feel to them, they would wrap around her body and stick to her legs and sides, making her feel trapped. She hated those sheets, and eyed them with caution at all times. The room was hot and the humidity in the air made it seem as if she was trying to breathe in an Indian monsoon.

The ceiling fan spun around fast enough that it was difficult to see the blades, but not so fast that it became a total blur. She watched one blade, and followed it in a circle for as long as she could, and then was ejected from her ride, and forced to choose another blade to follow with her eyes. The soft roar of the TV's static kicked the stagnant air into motion, issuing enough momentum so that one may move in an otherwise stifling space.

Her mind numbed with the sound of the space being between channels. Before she could allow herself to be completely enchanted by her melodic surroundings, a hard cutting rap rang out from the front door.

Her mind slowly began the power up sequence.

Tess threw the heavy comforter from her body, and stretched her body out, like a bright pink scruncci pulling taught. She was so thin, and very small. Hello Kitty was emblazoned on her belly. She stepped into her house slippers. They had little nubs in the soles, and she liked the way they felt on her feet; very refreshing. She called paused before heading to the door, and listened, but she heard no one in the house. Peeking up on her tip toes, she looked through the peep hole on the vivid rainforest green door. A middle aged man flecked with grey hair in a beige UPS uniform was standing at the door, staring off to the side not looking particularly interested in anything.

She slid the gold latch off, and it made a metallic shushing sound. The deadbolt clicked open, and she turned the knob, feeling the mechanical workings inside. She had to lean back to pull the heavy solid piece of wood towards her.

"Hello little miss, is your daddy home?" the man asked, as he bent over slightly to be closer to her level. He was holding a long brown box, it looked a little crumpled in one corner, and like it had been wet before.. Tess pushed her curls out of her face and sniffled. The pollen outside was irritating her sinuses.

"I don't have a daddy" she said bluntly. She liked to make people uncomfortable about her problems. This tended to make them ask less questions. It was a very handy system, and it provided entertainment for her as well. Her glasses slid down her nose, making the frames obscure her field of vision with a fuzzy dark line. She pushed the frame back into place after a beat, as the man started talking.

"Uh… Okay. I'm sorry little girl, is an adult home?" he offered. He seemed uncomfortable, that tickled her.

"I'm an adult" she said, with confidence. She stretched her full 4 feet as high as she could; her bright fuchsia pajamas, fuzzy blue monster slippers, her curly brown hair an utter wreck of a mess haloing her face, spittle dried in the corner of her mouth running down her chin. She was a magnificent spectacle of to be sure, but adult was certainly not a word one would use to describe her, especially at that moment.

The man laughed heartily at this, and nodded patronizingly.

"Yes, it's very nice to meet you miss, but is there a taller adult in the house?" he said, his voice lifting and swaying with a teasing cadence. His smile grew naturally from the last syllable it formed, and his teeth were an almost alarmingly bright white. It didn't seem natural to her.

"My height doesn't affect my ability to sign for a package." She pointed out, presenting her palm upward to the man. He sighed in exasperating.

"Look kid, it's very hot out here today, is an adult in the house?" His voice lost its sway, and instead fell flat like an iron anvil hitting a dirt floor; It even seemed to kick dust up in its wake. She wrinkled her nose and twitched her mouth with the approaching wave of a smile. She was happier when adults acted without pretense around her.

"I told you, I am an adult." She insisted, she tried to remain as serious as possible. The man sighed and looked at the number of the house, and then his clip board.

"What's your name, kid?" he floated her, raising an eyebrow curiously.

"Stevens."

"Okay Ms. Stevens, sign here." He handed her the clip board and a heavily chewed upon blue Bick pen. She thought for a moment about how many germs might be on the pen, but ignored it. She was excited to have someone think she was an adult, in her mind. She made her best shaky attempts at writing her mother's name in cursive. It took her a full minute. They had just learned cursive.

She was proud of her work. She smiled and placed the pen through the clip of the clipboard, and handed it back to him. He smirked as he looked at the name crudely scrawled out next to the X.

"Thank you, Ms. Stevens!" He said with a smile, and he handed the long brown box over to her. "Be careful, it's heavy" he warned. Tess nodded and took the box with both hands, setting it down on the floor next to the door. The man started to turn on his heels, leaving the slight respite of the shade of their porch, to return to the blaring sun and oppressive heat. He took his cap off and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow, his short, sharp, black, buzzed hair sparkling with sweat trapped in the forest of stubble. He exhaled with a rush that sounded like he had just been deflated. "…actually, if it's not too much trouble…" He started. Tess narrowed her eyes as her started talking, and quickly judged that she should be done with this transaction, since there was no one else home. As a result, she flicked the door shut with an efficient movement of her wrist, and it swung shut heavily on its own and the deadbolt and chain swiftly followed with the clean slicing sound of metal working against metal.

It was morning, a thick weighty morning, the kind that sinks into your heart and starts to wear a pit away. It was draining, and tiring, and no one was home to lighten it. Her mother had gone to work, and it was now time to start to take care of herself, the way she did almost every day.

The kitchen light up as she fluttered through its insides, flashes of light splatter back from bunches of silverware, the stove flickers into light and then hums softly in blue, the fridge casting a bright white sun across the kitchen floor, illuminating all the food choices. Her mother kept the house full of nutritious, healthy, organic food. There were all kinds of wholesome natural yogurts, free of hormones and chemicals, organic fruit, premade vegetable sides that her mother had created beforehand, slices of breakfast meats, fresh milk in a thick glass jug, springy cheeses that are easy to slice… her eyes feasted on every bit of it, scanning item by item, row by row. She twisted a strand of curls in her face around her finger, tugging on it. Deciding on an egg, toast, yogurt, and some black berries, she set upon herself to make her breakfast.

She watched Cosmos as she sat in front of the television, toast hanging from her mouth as she adjusted the volume so that Neil deGrasse Tyson's voice boomed through her living room, making her feel a bit more comfortable in the stillness of being alone. Her eyes locked on the screen in fascination while she munched on her food.

It wasn't too terribly long before Baba showed up. The door cleared it's throat before announcing her arrival as the locks swished open. The door creaked, letting out a drum roll, as she appeared from behind it in the doorway.

"Baba's here!" she sang. Tess couldn't hide her excitement, her grin stretching from ear to ear. Setting her plate down, she jumped up on the couch, and swung her legs over arm, launching herself in her grandmother's direction.

"Baba I missed you!" her arms extended like a flying bird, she hit her Baba with a whump sound and squeezed her around her tiny waist, as hard as she could. Baba laughed softly and pet the thicket of brown curls, rubbing her granddaughter's back.

"I missed you too, Tessy-bear." She pushed the child back by the shoulder gently, and held up a finger "just wait! I got you something" she turned to her large shoulder bag which hung at least a 15 inches deep. She dug around, part of her face vanishing into her purse, as she lifts it to get a better view. After a few seconds, from inside the bag she cried out "aha here it is!" and she smiled her loving warm smile, which settled into the familiar wrinkles of her face. She procured a small thin box; very similar in shape and dimension to the box she just received from UPS, but scaled down to the length of a pen. It was white, shiny, and wrapped lovingly with red and white ribbon, tied with the shaky hands of an old woman. She had curled the ribbon, sot it sprung with movement. "Let's go sit down on the couch and you can open that okay?" She smiled. Tess ran over to the couch, and used the arm like a pommel horse, jumping over it acrobatically again. She landed with a little thump and beamed at her grandmother, who took a just a little bit longer to get to the couch, walking instead of flying. Neil deGrasse Tyson spoke about black holes in the background, the television casting a blue light on everything in front of it.

Baba took a seat next to Tess, and squeezed her shoulder pulling her closer to her. She kissed her mess of hair and smelled the familiar comforting smell of her granddaughter. Her face warmed with a smile that could not be stopped. She poked the present she had given Tess, telling her to open it.

Tess tugged on the bow, stretching the coils of curled ribbon straight, it held for a moment when it was all stretched out, and then the knot unhitched and it unraveled. She set the ribbon aside, and open the box with great care. It was a glass vial that contained crystals, and some colorful bits that she couldn't identify. Something inside looked bone white, contrasting the translucent bright colors of the stones. She examined it closer; a piece of short grain white rice. That was a little odd, she thought. The glass looked thick for its size, and hand blown, so it was slightly lopsided and imperfect. It was capped with a beautiful antique silver top, from which it hung on a silver chain. She took it out carefully, and the pendant dropped from her palm, hanging and swinging from the chain. She lifted the pendant to her eye level, and inspected the various elements.

"It's a spirit charm. My grandmother gave me one too when I was your age. It is supposed to bring the good spirits to you, and repel the bad ones." She explained, as she took the chain from Tess, and lifted it over her wild hair. She pulled her hair out of the chain and inspected it as it hung from her neck, and with a smile, took her granddaughter's hand. "It looks beautiful, let's go take a look"

Tess was curious about everything her grandmother spoke about. She used to tell her stories about her spirit friends, about wisdom they had given her, seemingly impossible things she had seen, things that could only be called magic in her mind. Tess, however, had n ever seen any such thing.

Baba pulled her granddaughter's hair back, presenting a brush from her purse, and tugging at her hair with quick expertise. "You never brush your hair, child, you need to brush!" she chided softly under her breath, while Tess stared in awe at her image in the mirror. She touched the vial around her neck, and turned it slightly to the left and to the right, watching the contents shift and settle with each movement. She thought that it was so beautiful at that moment, she wanted to wear it forever, and never take it off. It made her feel beautiful, and grown up. Baba squeezed her shoulders in her hands, standing behind her, and smiles approvingly.

"Look how beautiful you look? Let us get that hair fixed." She stroked her hair with the expertise of a doting mother and grandmother, pulling the wild strands out from her face and back into a pony tail. "Would you like to braid your hair?" she asked. Tess smiled and nodded eagerly. She loved it when Baba braided her hair. It felt so soothing, and made her body melt like warm butter over pancakes from her head to her toes. She also thought it was beautiful, and it was the only way that her hair could be kept under control. "Come, let's sit."

They moved over to the couch. Baba sat on the couch and she motioned for Tess to sit on the floor between her legs. Tess sat down, cross legged, and closed her eyes as the warm feelings of Baba tugging at her hair gently as she wove all of her wild tresses into a tame, contained, tight braid.


End file.
